


Don't Let It Crumble Down

by AnaliseGrey



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Lance is not treating himself kindly, Lance's Bad Brain Day, Mental Health Issues, Overstimulation, sensory processing issues, thankfully Hunk is there to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 04:30:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaliseGrey/pseuds/AnaliseGrey
Summary: He’s adjusting, more or less, as well as any of them, he thinks. The food isn’t bad once you get used to it and stop expecting it to be Earth food. The beds are comfy, and he can set the computer in his room to play the sounds of a beach, even if he isn’t near one. He gets plenty of hugs from Hunk, and occasionally from Coran, and he’s fine; couldn’t be better.Sometimes though, things get to be a bit...much.It isn’t just a space thing, it happened back home, too, though it’s much easier to handle on Earth without the weight of the universe feeling like it’s on his shoulders. Back home he could usually go somewhere quiet, or to his dorm at the Garrison, put on his sleep mask, put in his headphones, and listen to soothing music until it stopped feeling like the world was turned up to eleven. In space that’s harder to do.





	Don't Let It Crumble Down

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by requests from both maltedmilkchocolate and immapiggeh on tumblr who both requested Lance and sensory overload/overstimulation.

There are many things Lance misses from Earth.

Obviously his family is right there at the top, no doubt, but he also misses the rain, the smells from the market near his family’s house, the feel of relaxing on the sun-warmed sand with a breeze coming off the water. He misses pizza, and telenovelas, and everything familiar that he doesn’t get to have in space.

Space is cool and all, but it isn’t the same as home.

He’s adjusting, more or less, as well as any of them, he thinks. The food isn’t bad once you get used to it and stop expecting it to be Earth food. The beds are comfy, and he can set the computer in his room to play the sounds of a beach, even if he isn’t near one. He gets plenty of hugs from Hunk, and occasionally from Coran, and he’s fine; couldn’t be better.

Sometimes though, things get to be a bit...much.

It isn’t just a space thing, it happened back home, too, though it’s much easier to handle on Earth without the weight of the universe feeling like it’s on his shoulders. Back home he could go somewhere quiet, usually, or to his dorm at the Garrison, put on his sleep mask, put in his headphones, and listen to soothing music until it stopped feeling like the world was turned up to eleven. In space that’s harder to do.

He can’t say, “Gee, this battle is great and all, but I really need a break, can we take 5?”. He can’t stop in the middle of a training exercise to try to explain that his brain feels like it’s shorting out, and everything is too loud, too bright, too  _ much _ , and can he maybe go lay down for awhile? He needs to be able to keep up, to stay strong for the team. He can’t let them down, it isn’t an option.

He knows soon as his alarm goes off that it’s just going to be one of Those days. He wakes up feeling out of sorts, knows he didn’t sleep well; he kept waking up from dreams he can’t quite remember, but which fill him with unease. He drags himself through his morning routine, hoping it will settle him, and to an extent it does. Lance is the living embodiment of ‘fake it til you make it’, and now is no exception. He smiles his way through breakfast, even as the rise and fall of conversation grates on his nerves, words tumbling together into a jumble he can’t easily process. He does his best to focus on the morning briefing and sit still even when his hands itch to move, flipping his stylus over and around his fingers, though he stops when Allura gives him a look.

Through the afternoon it only gets worse, and he can feel the tension building through his shoulders and up his neck and turning into a nasty headache. He just has to get through the afternoon training session, and he’ll have a chance to go unwind in his room before dinner.

To his dismay, Allura doesn’t want physical training this session; she wants to focus more on the mental bond.

Awesome.

Lance settles in at his spot in the circle and takes his headband when Coran hands it to him. Hunk is giving him a look, and Lance bristles without really meaning to. “ _ What _ ?”

“Nothing, man.” Hunk holds his hands up. “You just look kind of tense. You ok?”

“Fine! I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be fine?”

Hunk’s eyebrow goes up slowly, holding Lance’s gaze.

Lance sighs, shoulders dropping slightly.

“Just tired, Hunkuna matata. I’ll be ok. Don’t worry.”

“Mmmhm.” Hunk doesn’t sound like he believes him, but before he can fuss at Lance more, Allura gets their attention to start.

It’s not the smoothest mental training session they’ve ever done.

Lance tries to focus, he really does, but it’s like the harder he tries, the more it slips away, like trying to grip a handful of sand. Every little distraction feels ten times worse, louder, more jarring, and after Allura snaps at him the third time to focus, he just  _ can’t  _ anymore. He rips the headband off and stumbles to his feet, and in the second before he turns to run, he can see the surprise on everyone’s face. He hears Shiro try to call out after him, but Lance is fast, and makes it through the door to the hallway before anyone can stop him.

He runs, heading deeper into the Castle. He briefly considers his room, but knows that’s one of the first places they’ll look, and he just can’t deal with people yet.

Whenever he hits a stairway or elevator, he goes down, until he’s deeper into the Castle than he’s ever been. It’s quiet here, the gentle hum of machinery the only sound. The lights are dim, just the blue strip lights near the floor lighting the hallways and for the first time all day, Lance feels himself start to relax. He chooses a door at random, and when it slides open, he finds a small lounge. The furniture looks like the what they have in the larger common room they use close to the paladin’s quarters. He goes to the far wall and wedges himself into the corner, pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around them, letting his forehead drop down to rest on his knees. He breathes, feeling his pulse slow, and his mind start to quiet.

He tries to figure out how he’s going to explain to everyone what happened, if maybe he can laugh it off somehow, chalk it up to being tired. It’s not like he can just tell them he’s such a failure that he can’t even focus through a half hour of training.

He’s getting close to dozing off against the wall when he hears footsteps out in the hallway, and his shoulders start to creep back up near his ears with suppressed tension. He thought he was almost ready to go back to everyone, but it seems he was wrong.

There’s a soft whoosh as the door slides open, and if it had to be someone, Lance is happy that it’s Hunk.

“Hey there, buddy.” Hunk sounds unsure, cautious, and Lance doesn’t really blame him. 

“Hey.”

When it doesn’t look like Lance is going to bolt, Hunk sidles over and sits down on the floor next to him, leaning back against the wall.

“So, this is really awkward, but everyone sent me to find out why you freaked out and ran away.”

Lance groans and thunks his forehead back down onto his knees.

“How much trouble am I in?”

There's a beat of silence before Hunk asks, “What?”

Lance glances up. “I fucked up. Ran out of a training session. I can’t imagine Allura is super thrilled about that.”

Hunk sighs, then looks sidelong at Lance.

“Do I get in trouble when I have a panic attack?”

“Wha- no! That would be ridiculous.”

“What about when my anxiety acts up? That’s a major inconvenience, causes all sorts of trouble, drives everyone nuts. Don’t deny it, I know how annoying it is, I live with it.”

Lance lets out an exasperated huff. “Yes, it can sometimes have bad timing, but we don’t hold that against you. It is what it is. It’s a condition, you can’t control it.”

“Then why do you think we’d hold it against you when you have a bad brain day?”

Lance opens his mouth to argue, closes it again with a scowl when he can’t immediately think of a response. Hunk raises a questioning eyebrow, daring Lance to try. When Lance folds his arms over his chest and continues to scowl at him, Hunk relents and puts a comforting hand on Lance’s shoulder and squeezes.

“You’re not in trouble. We’re just worried. You’ve been off all day, and then this. Did something happen? Are you not feeling well?”

“No,” Lance unfolds and stands up, starts pacing around the room. “I didn’t sleep well last night, but that’s not really the issue. It just made it harder to deal with.”

“Then what  _ is  _ the issue?”

“I don’t  _ know _ ,” Lance snarls in frustration. “I can’t focus, things are just- too loud, too bright, I can’t sit still, I can’t concentrate. I _tried_ , Hunk, I did, and it didn’t help, and I need to be able to do it. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because I can’t fucking focus. I don’t want anyone to die because-” Lance takes a shuddering breath and sinks to his knees on the ground where he stands. “I’d never be able to live with myself.”

“Aww, buddy, no.” Hunk gets up on his knees and shuffles over to where Lance is, sliding an arm around Lance’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug; Lance goes willingly, burying his face against Hunk. Hunk gives the best hugs.

“Look, we can work around it.” Hunk gives him an extra squeeze, then settles back so he can see Lance’s face. “We work around my weird brain stuff, and Shiro’s. No reason we can’t work around yours. We can talk to Coran about it, see if he has any ideas.”

Lance nods. When Hunk stands and offers a hand to Lance, he takes it, letting Hunk pull him up.

“C’mon. We need to let everyone know you’re ok.”

Lance balks a moment at that. “Are you sure they’re not mad?”

Hunk nods, tugging Lance towards the door. “Positive. Just worried.”

Lance takes a deep breath and lets it out, feeling better than he has all day.

“Alright, Hunk, lead on.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if this is quite what the requesters had in mind, but hopefully it's ok. I've written Lance as having difficulty with sensory processing, where sometimes he becomes over sensitive to sound, light, etc. which can lead to burnout.


End file.
